Dilandau's Death
by Fryoa
Summary: What if death asked you to be it's companion? What if you said no? What if you could no longer tell the difference beteen waking and slumbering dreams? Will Heaven come to save you? !DillyxVan. a little yaoi r
1. The kiss of Death

This is a fun and cheery little fic with absolutely no foul language or suggestive themes! And that's why you found it located under 'PG-13'!

Ha haha . . . right.   But please read and review. I like e-mail. Don't flame me! I have a very delicate self-esteem and couldn't take being confused by too complicated an insult. Thank You! (^v^) Penguin!

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflone.                                                                  . . . or Dilandau.

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In the far recesses of the Vione, Dilandau was asleep, dreaming unhappy things. A cold shadow blocked the moonlight from his pale face. Dilandau frowned, and then rose pink lips breathed warm air onto his skin. 

"Dilandau, wake up, child" a voice that was no voice whispered.

He stirred, brows furrowed, and blinked his eyes.  Who the hell . . .?  This didn't sound like anyone he knew.

Silk-wrapped steel arms lifted Dilandau and held him close. He no longer could remember his bad dreams.  In child-like innocence, Dilandau looked up to see who this intruder was.

If there were words to describe what Dilandau saw, it would mean to die. This beings hair seemed to shift colors, along with his eyes. But it's skin was pale to rival even Dilandau. Yet it was warm and all encompassing, almost drowning him in the ebony billows of its cloak.

"Who are you?"  Dilandau demanded as harshly as he could after being woken up and so pleasantly surprised.

"I have many names, child, call me whatever you wish. I have heard them all."

Dilandau frowned at the vague answer.  Didn't this thing know who he was? "I want a name, damn it!"

"Shi, then. I like that one. I have been given the opportunity to give you a choice, O one favored on high, Dilandau Albatou.  Would you leave this life of pain an anguish and follow me into eternity?"  It whispered.  " You would not have to face the pains of your dreams or fight who you were before you can remember.  The stars call your name, Dilandau.  Will you return their fire?"

"This is a dream. Fuck what you say, I'll just wake up in bed there and curse myself for having such a stupid dream." He said as he snapped his head away and crossed his arms. " It won't happen, so why even think it. It's  . . . .stupid and weak to dream for anything."

"You don't have to tell the Master of Loneliness these things, Dilandau. I know too well. You're tempted beyond temptation. Your mortal addictions will leave you and you'll be free.  I'm offering you an option you won't have when to die, for at that time you'll be beyond redemption, child." 

"I don't want to have to think so early in the morning. Come back when I'm sound.   And awake.     And have my subordinates.     Screw you."   This was severely confusing Dilandau, what was he supposed to believe about this situation? Strange guy, middle of the night, and he felt all happy inside.

"If you want, if you come with me. I have no objections to you as a lover, you are, by all Gaean standards, very beautiful."  It said with a half jesting lilt. Although It's eyes were dead serious. 

"Stop that, you're creeping me out.                     I'm getting cold."  Dilandau said, finally deciding this had to be a dream. No one on the Vione was this whacked out.  "So what's in this for me if I come with you, again?"

"Your last chance at having a little piece paradise in the afterlife. I am your last hope." Slowly it moved its face closer to Dilandau, and wrapped its arms tighter around the shivering boy. " Would you be saved?"

Shi touched its lips to Dilandau's. All at once images of the perfect place flooded Dilandau's mind. Along with them came the beautiful sensation of being kissed for the first time, it did turn into a kiss when Dilandau jerked forward in surprise. Shi had no rejections and took it as an invitation to continue, as well as to deepen the kiss.  Dilandau's head was spinning with so many sensations of peace and relaxation, coupled with being aroused. He had no choice but to surrender himself.  He wanted to surrender himself to this being, he realized. He actually _wanted_ to leave his pathetic and boring excuse for a life and follow it to the beautiful paradise that he could see behind his eyelids.  There was nothing stopping him!  Nothing at all! Except . . .

"Can I take my Slayers?" Dilandau asked humbly.

"I'm sorry, my child, but this offer extends to you and you alone.  For only you have captured my heart and it is that I may have you at your consent.  Please Dilandau, come with me. You only have tonight to decide, I beg of you to choose wisely, koi." It replied, saddened by such a trivial request.  A ticket into heaven and he wanted to bring luggage? 

Dilandau slowed himself onto his bed. Out of the creatures embrace, all of his bad memories flooded back to him in a cold wave.  

"Dilandau, you're hurting your self.  Don't do that."  Shi warned.

"no.  No! get out here, Nightmare!" Dilandau stifled tears, " dreams never come true, now GO AWAY!!" 

"When next we meet, I will not come in peace, boy." Shi's voice had suddenly become ice and daggers, ragged and raspy.

Silent as when it had come, it left.  Leaving Dilandau alone again in the garish moonlight with nothing to hold him.   

 ~ ^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^

So? How was it? Should I write more? Did it stink? OPINIONS!!

            Thank you!    


	2. Must be a dream

Te he! Thanx much for the reviews!  Let's see if I can push myself and make this chapter longer . . . Maybe there's more Literary artist in me than I first believed. Shi was death, for anyone who might not have caught on.  

Any-who! Let's write a chapter . . . do be do be do . . .

(if this gets a little ooc, remember this _is _only a piece of humble fanfiction)

The door to the Slayers bunks slammed against the wall and Dilandau charged into the room, washing everything with the light from the hallway.  The few light sleepers groaned.  Didn't they deserve sleep, if nothing else at all?  Dalet buried his face in his pillow.  He wanted his beauty sleep, damn it, and Dilandau was _not_ depriving him of that, too.  What the hell did he want so badly that he felt it imperative to deprive them of their precious few hours of sleep? 

Shakily, Dilandau climbed into the first bed to his left and seized its contents by the shoulders.  Poor Chesta was jolted from a peaceful slumber. He opened his eyes to the face of his frantic commander, then that faded into static darkness as the door closed.

"Albatou, sir, what is the matter?" Chesta said as calmingly as he could, using all his self-control not to just wrap his arms around his beloved patron.     

"Chesta!  He came for me! He did, I swear!"  Dilandau whispered with such urgency in his voice.

This caught the ears of the boy-warriors.  Something was wrong with their commander, and they'd be damned if they didn't do everything to help.  Everyone turned or sat up, alert and ready to undo this problem.

"W-who, sir?" Chesta extended his hand in his commander's direction, but dare not touch.

" Le Morte, Death! He used another name, but it was him! I'm not lying!"  

# # # # 

A few moments had passed in his bed, before Dilandau had fled to his trusted Slayers.  In that time he had realized the gravity of his decision.  It dawned on him who had visited him, and that the same had begged him for such a simple request.  Death had begged for his presence in the firmaments, and Dilandau had outright denied him.

# # # #

" He came and he asked me to go with him to the heavens.  He held me", Dilandau guided Chesta's arms around himself, attempting to imitate the feeling of peace Shi's presence had brought.

Chesta gasped at his commander's actions, but went with them and tightened his embrace.  Gatti feared for his captain, you couldn't meet death and keep your soul, (if Dilandau  had one to begin with).  All the boy's hearts went out to Dilandau, even if some of them were confused as to how he could still be here on Gaia.  Miguel, who was on the bunk above Chesta, silently dropped down to be nearer to his commander.  There was no way Chesta could handle an emotional break down all by himself.  Especially coming from Dilandau-sama.

"Dilandau, sir?" Miguel was surprised to find Chesta already holding their captain.  Miguel decided to join them, who knows when he'd have another chance to hold his Dilandau-kun like this?  He was confused, why was his commander so cold?  These summer nights were nothing short of humid.

". . . and then he did this ," Dilandau said in the most hushed whisper of all.

Dilandau leaned forward and found Chesta's lips with his own. His actions echoing what he saw behind his eyes. He was kissing death again, trying to recapture that release and feeling of peace.  Nothing.

Chesta was startled out of his wits and froze, pretending to be a doe caught in headlights.  His master was crazy!  He just didn't know what he was doing, he must be delirious!  That had to be it.  His commander had finally snapped.  No way in a trillion years would Dilandau-sama ever kiss him, a lowly soldier.  Come on! This is _Dilandau-sama_ we're talking about here.  Right?  But it did do well as wonderful dream.  He would never wake from _this_ dream. 

Miguel realized what was going on between them and blushed with envy.  What did Chesta think he was doing?!  Obviously their commander needed comfort, but now is not the time to take advantage of him!

Dilandau realized who he was, in reality, giving his kiss to and jumped away.  What the hell was wrong with him?

"Dilandau-koi?  What's the matter?  Your safe from your nightmare, now, I promise" Chesta urged.

"I didn't _WANT _to be SAVED!  I wanted him to take me and I fucking said '**NO**'!  Do you know WHY?!"  Dilandau screamed at them. "Do you know why _Chesta_?" his voice slithered menacingly into Chesta's ears, " Because of you."

Dilandau twisted a handful of Chesta's hair and wrenched his head back, " Because I thought of you, a mere worm. And _that_ kept me out of heaven. Thank you _nothing._" 

Chesta's heart died.  Tears fought their way out of his eyes and trickled down his cheeks.  How could his beloved captain do this to him? And after that lovely kiss he had just imparted to him?!  "Dilandau-sama . . . forgive me. . ." was all he could think to say.  

Everyone halted their actions.

Dilandau licked the tears from Chesta's face and threw him to the ground.  Then he laughed.  It echoed and stung it the souls of the Slayers.  Was their commander truly _this_ cold?  no . . . it had to be a dream.  They begged to wake up.

Dilandau walked back to bed. 

Reviews?! Suggestions?!  pwease?  the penguin begs of you (*v*)  


	3. Petals and Confusion

            Meep!  I'll write chappy three now!  I had a very interesting memorial weekend. Nothing happened.  Yea!  I'm having fun experimenting with my humble little fanfic. Tell me how you like it, or if I need to change something.  Sorry about the confusion when I posted the second chapter incorrectly!  I'm completely computer illiterate, so I don't know how this even got up here.  Thanks much for all your reviews!  *does happy dance* 

            Beware. My mother, the Anti-fan is coming.  She frightens me sometimes.  She wants me to make her an account here at FF.net.  I don't think I have a choice.  BEWARE! For she will unleash her anti-fanfiction on the world, this Anti-fan my mother, yesss.  The end is near!  The end is near! The end is near! 

*rings her copper bells*  

            Everyone rushed to Chesta's aid, but only out of sheer curiosity.  They wanted to be told what the hell had just transpired between him and their patron.

            Gatti turned on the lights and began to organize the situation, "Slayers, please organize yourselves.  I believe Chesta will have something to tell us."

So they obeyed and sat in a little campfire ring around Chesta.  He was trembling still at the fact that he had just received his first kiss from a _boy_, then had his heart torn asunder by the same in a matter of mere moments.  Despite his ability to turn to stone at battle, inside still laid a tender little boy who was confused and hurt.  At the moment he was useless for talking, the sobs taking up all the capacity for air in his little esophagus.

# # # #

Miguel was as far away from the whole scene as he could manage.  He sat fuming in a shower stall, attempting to retain tears of hate and jealousy.  How dare that puny _brat_ receive the kiss of **his** Dilandau-kun?!  _Chesta_ knew better than anyone his feelings for their captain.  He slammed his fist against the tile wall, cracking it in places.  ~_Wish that was _Chesta.  _That prick is gonna be black and blue when I'm through with him.  Scaredy cat can't sleep on the top bunk. Damn him_. ~ 

# # # #

"For the last time, Chesta, what happened?!", Guimel heaved a sigh of impatience.  They all loved Chesta like a little brother, but he was *such* a baby off the field.

            "He **KISSED** me. OK!?!? And then he told me he hated me because I kept him from heaven. You heard that. YOU **_heard _**that!", this only led to more crying.

            "Well,  . . .  um"

            This, sadly, only confirmed their worst fears, that what had just happened was true.  Dilandau had survived the kiss of death.  This weighted down on the room like a smoky cloud. Slowly the boy-warriors returned to bed, but not to slumber.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

A song that sounded like nothing drifted in through the open balcony window to Albatou's room.  On its waves drifted the petals of a thousand black roses.  They settled themselves upon everything that could be settled upon, his bookshelves, his bed, his floor, they even dared to alight on him. In Dilandau's mind images of paradise flogged him.  They taunted and teased his soul.  He lay wide-eyed, staring emptily at the ceiling.  He would have stayed there for colors if the scent the roses brought with them hadn't disturbed him, for they smelled of Shi.

Dilandau set himself into a rage not unlike a caged animal.  It tipped him over, he was nothing but regret. It seemed death's dark robes had swallowed him and he saw naught but darkness.  He felt the velvet of the roses, that was Shi.  He heard the nothing song, it was Shi. He tasted the kiss of death, it was himself.   _It_ consumed him.  

"Get **out** of my Head!  Just Leave me ALONE!  Oni!  Aku!* Shit, just LEAVE ME THE **FUCK** ALONE!!  Nightmare!  Help ME!", he finally fell to the ground and curled into the fetal position and cried.

About that time the Slayers clamored into the room, out of breath from running all the way across the Vione.  They gasped to see their captain in such a state.  Not to mention that everyone was thoroughly confused about the rose petals.  Where the hell had _they_ come from?  Gatti stepped up his commander and sat him up.  Dilandau instantly shied away from him and almost hissed.  Gatti took a breath, silently pleaded forgiveness, and slapped Dilandau.

He froze for a moment, stunned, confused.  Dilandau was **not **one to stay surprised.  He slowly stood and turned to Gatti.  The boy-warrior braced himself.  Whatever he was to endure, he deserved it but he knew no other way to save his captain.  But what were his Slayers doing in his room?

"Ah, . . . you boys can have the day off.  I'm just gonna stay here today.  I have paper work to do" the Slayers all stared rather slack-jawed at their commander.  Gatti stayed cowered in the place that he was.  Hadn't he just been in the depths of despair?  "Well?  Are you all going to remain there, acting like dead fish?!" They scattered, all of them save Gatti.

Well! Sorry about not updating in a couple weeks, school stuff's keeping me busy.  I'm not sure as to how Dilly-sama should react to Gatti.  Any ideas? They're all very welcome. And Thanxs much for all the reviews! They make me feel all warm and fuzzy!  (^v^) Penguin!    

*oni=demon-thing.  Aku=evil    ( if someone was wondering. . . .)         


	4. Needles of the Heart

Sorry about all the foul language.  Dilly-sama has such a potty mouth. But I suppose we cannot blame him, ne?  If I were Dilly I'd want to cuss a lot, too.  Thank-you for your reviews! *gets all smiley.* They let me know that I'm talking to an audience, and not just to myself.  Although, I don't _mind_ talking to myself, there are a lot of people to talk to.  However, it's always nicer talking to someone intelligent for a change.  Look at me, I'm just stalling by talking so much!  Here, let's stall _some more_ with a disclaimer! Those are funny.

DISCLAIMER: I don' own the Esca boys, and the world is better for it.  Much yaoi lemony goodness would ensue.  And Hitomi fans would have a pleasant little gravesite to visit.  So I don't think that'd be good for the general public's sanity.  But I don't much _care_ for the general public, do I?     

Mu. Or Moo. Or even Mue!  If you can think of more ways to spell this word, alert me by email! I like getting email.  You could email me just to bug me. Or see what I plan on Doing for the day.  I'm serious.  I rarely even get _junk mail_, how's **that** for pathetic, huh?!  TOP THAT!  I dare You!  I bet you're too cowardly to accept my challenge!  Gya HA HA!!  

Anyhow, I should probably begin writing this chapter, huh?  Sorry about all the rambling, it's 12:17 am. But, if you were smart, you probably simply just skipped this extra long into and started reading, ne?  

" Gatti, what's happening to me?" he hissed under his breath. "I can't feel anything."

Gatti watched wide-eyed at his commander.  Dilandau stood and dragged himself over to the oil lamp on his desk.  Its dancing flame seemed to laugh at the soldier's weakened state.  Dilandau turned his hand though the flame.  Smoke blackened his hand quickly and it began to sizzle as the water in his skin started to evaporate.  He smiled to see the fire was having fun.

" I don't feel it.  Usually it kinda hurts and I know I'm still alive, but I'm oblivious to the pain now," he rocked his head back to look at the stunned boy-solider, " Do you think I'm dead?"

He weaved his way back to Gatti and sat in front of him.  He blew out the few remaining flames on his hand. Gatti remained silent, afraid of this desensitivity  and averted his eyes.  Dilandau ran his hot, charred fingers down Gatti's face, and snickered at Gatti's reaction.  Gatti flinched, how could his commander not _feel_ that?  Just seeing that happen was torture.  Sure, he was a pyro and used to burns, but this was major!

"Do I _feel_ dead, Gatti?  Come on, be honest," he taunted as Gatti forced himself not to shy away from his touch.

"Sir, Albatou-sama, sir, let me. . . let me bandage that up.  Your hand will become infected you won't be able to use it if I'm not allowed to do that,  . . . .sir," Gatti said, trying really hard to persuade his captain to allow him to save his precious, perfect hand.  How would he be able to fight as is?  What if we got a mission call?  What if the dragon showed up?  What if, what if . . .

Dilandau looked at his hand, unfazed.  He sneered, " Fine, go ahead.  Nothing is going to die before me if I can help it.  I'm going to be the very first one to see _him_ again and I'll pay that bastard back." 

Gatti, decided not to comment, he was on dangerous ground anyhow.  He ran to retrieve the medical supplies and returned as quickly as possible.  Dilandau was back on the bed. He lay on his back, and appeared if he was trying to get into the most vulnerable position possible, with arms and legs spread away from each other. He simply stared into empty void.  Gatti called out his name, no reply.  He didn't even blink when Gatti began to dress the burn.  

It was too quiet, Gatti couldn't even hear the hum of the Vione's engines whirring. No birds, not even the clock on the mantle seemed to make a sound.  He listened for his own heartbeat.  It felt as if he'd gone deaf.  He quickly checked his pulse, just to be sure.  He laughed at himself for falling into his commander's delusion for a moment, the sound of his own voice startled him.  He did his best, considering he only had basic medical training.  It would heal, and Dilandau-sama would fight again.  Finished, Gatti turned to go, but Dilandau grabbed his wrist.

"Don't leave me alone with _him_, Gatti.  I won't forgive you if you do."

Gatti swallowed the nervous lump in his throat, " Hai, Dilandau-sama."

"Then come lay down with me.  Show _him_ I'm already taken, that way _he_ can't have me.  In fact, let's make him jealous.  We'll make his blood boil, I know he's watching me.  Come **down** here, get me if you want me so badly!" Dilandau yelled at Shi, then he rolled his head to look at Gatti with strange, empty eyes. "Come on Gatti, what are you waiting for?  Why don't you jump me? Isn't that what you've _always_ wanted to do?"

Dilandau sat up and pulled Gatti next to him on the bed.  Dilandau wrapped his hands around Gatti's face and tried to pull him closer.  The boy-solider didn't want to, not like this.  This was just scary, why was his commander _doing _this to him?  It hurt.  It hurt when he shoved needles into his heart.  Gatti squirmed and did his best to worm his way out of his patrons grasp, but failed oh so miserably. 

"No . Sir. . . I've got to get back to the ranks  . . .," was followed by some incoherent excuse.

"Just do what I say, you piece of shit!" 

"NO!" Gatti yanked himself away and backed up. "You're delirious!  Just stay here and take care of yourself for once!  Leave me BE!" 

Dilandau was livid as he leapt to his feet and prowled towards Gatti, snarling at him like a lion," You are **MY** Slayer and you will do as _I_ say, NO questions asked!  Do you hear me?!  Now get over here!" 

"No."

Oh, the woe that can come from that word.  Gatti suffered it all wordlessly.  Somewhere along the way Dilandau had found a bottle of vino and that only fueled his animalistic passion even more.  Gatti could not do a thing but endure it with silent grace.  His choice was to follow his commander.  This was his own fault.  His own fault . . . but it hurts . . .  Dilandau-kun, where did you go?

Tick . . .

In Dilandau's mind all he could see was red flanked by the cruel laughter of _It_. He sacrificed heaven for the Slayers, and it wasn't worth it.  This dog needed to understand that it was his fault.  'No.' How dare he?!  Betrayal, disloyalty, disgraces!  Dilandau didn't even care if Gatti existed any more.  Even still . . .  he _did_ care for his injured hand.  That isn't enough to forgive!  Is it?

Tock . . .

Gatti doubled in on himself then spat up blood.  Please, gods, let him be sparred to see the morning.  If he asked for nothing else, let him be spared now.  When the next blow didn't come, it seemed that the gods of Gaia had answered his prayer.  Gatti peeked up to see what was going on.  Dilandau had the sweetest, concerned look on his face, he actually looked his age, an innocent 15 year-old boy.  Not the drunk, psychologically unstable, pyromaniac General with a small task force and a messed up background with too much experience in the art of war he actually was.

"Gatti, will you be ok?" a smile played on his lips, "I think I just had too much to drink.  The demon is stayed for now.  I'm kinda tiered.  Why don't you give me a kiss and you can go to bed, ok?"

What the hell kind of mood swing is _that_?!   Well how convenient for Dilandau-sama to just all the sudden feel sorry for beating me half to death!  Gatti heaved himself to a sitting position, spitting up more blood in the process.  Dilandau just watched, patiently. 

"You sick-o.  Some Captain, beats his subordinate.  Really tough of you, you know that?" Gatti spat, glaring at Dilandau.

Dilandau gave *that* infamous smirk to Gatti. He pulled the weak and beaten Gatti close to his chest, ear over heart.  " Do you hear that?  I _am_ still alive, _and _your commander.  I decide what happens to you . . I would be nice if I were you." Dilandau said in a whisper.

Gatti shook with fear as Dilandau passed on the kiss of Shi to him.  But, he became swept up in it.  Dilandau tasted sweet, like black cherries.  The sun was setting and was already well into twilight.  Stars gazed at them with envy, that Dilandau would have a mortal in their stead.  Gatti elicited a moan as Dilandau started caressing the bruises on his neck with his mouth.  No one would dream like this, but how could this be reality?  A surreal state held them for a time, and it was good.  It was just he and the only person that held any meaning in his life now, Dilandau-kun. 

Gatti was brought back to merciless reality when Dilandau slapped him, "That's for earlier, and for making me care about you. Now leave."

So Gatti left, the poison of Death's kiss already running hot in his veins.  That poison that kept suicide just as out, just as out of reach as life was.  Desire and hate, fascination and disgust filled Gatti for both the world and himself.  Still, nothing changes.    

Only Miguel noticed as Gatti silently came to bed.  

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + 

yup.  That's the chapter.  Wow. That's creeping even _me_ out.  Is it a good sign when what the author has written even freaks _her_ out?  I'm not even sure any more . . . Any-hoo! 

Alert! I am NOT, simply NOT updating till I have a total of /**5/** reviews for THIS chapter! I'm sorry. But you can always review! 


	5. The prolog to Chapter 5

Prolog to chapter 5:

Laveriel paced the hall directly outside his captain's quarters. He was going to demand his attention. After Gatti came to bed so late last night tousled and flushed like that, Miguel would *not* be brushed aside any longer!  However, how was he going to address him?  Obviously he couldn't just go up and knock on the door.  Or could he?  Miguel stopped and looked at the tall, ornate doors to his commander's room. Maybe if he tried just walking in? He flew back into pacing at the absurd thought.  Like he'd live after doing _that_.  He growled in frustration and pounded on the door. 

"Oh, damn," he muttered to himself as he realized what he'd just done. Now, what could be a likely excuse . . .?

Dilandau opened the door expectantly, crunching on an apple, like he'd been waiting for Miguel all this time.

"Well?"

Dilandau held open the door for Miguel to come inside.  Almost giddy at his luck, he romped right in, a smile trying to hide itself on his lips.

"I was thinking you'd never knock.  It was diving me absolutely crazy with you pacing like that outside for two hours solid.  If you ever do that again I solemnly swear I will kill you in the worst way I know how," Dilandau said simply than took another bite out of his apple.

"Yes, sir," Miguel answered, unsure of what do next exactly. He never actually planned to get this far; it had taken all of his courage to just to get to the door of his commander.

Dilandau plopped into a comfy, large, black lounge-chair in front of the mantle that hadn't been there last night. Miguel shuffled his feet, he never realized how badly he needed to polish his boots.  Was that a cricket?

"So, Laveriel, what brings you to my privet chambers so early in the morning? You _do_ realize we attack today, don't you? _Do_ tell me what you think is so important that you need to take time out of _my_ busy day to tell me.  I'm on pins and needles, 'fess up,' Dilandau said, which made Miguel feel very guilty for being there.

Well, it was now or never, "S-sir, I . . ." Miguel swallowed to wet his dried throat and shouted, "I have feelings for you, Albatou-sama, sir!" He dropped to his knees while shutting his eyes very tight.  Now or never, it was now or never . . .

Dilandau looked annoyed at his apple, which had almost been eaten to the core. "That's it? My gods, I thought it was going to be something important.  I suppose you just feel left out, hmm?" he glanced blandly at Miguel, " Just to let you know, I hate you. But you can always come back later.  Get."

Miguel looked up from where he was kneeling on the floor and shot Dilandau a dirty look. Fine! So he briskly turned on heal and left. Dilandau gave the open door a devious smirk and he began to prepare himself for the raid on the Austurian outpost. 

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Now hurry and go read Chapter 5!!  Go GO GO!


	6. Chapt 5 Touched by an Angel

Moo! And thus, Chapter 5 begins. I must here and now thank the Fans for their gracious reviews. I feel all warm and fuzzy after reading them. Or at least acknowledged and appreciated. There are so many reviewers out there, I have to give them each a penguin. : )

(^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^), (^v^)

Ok . . .that's a lot of penguins. Yup.

. . . . . . . . . . .dawdle  . . . . . . . .  twiddling of thumbs . . . . . . . . . . . 

ON WITH THE FIC!

* * * * * * *

Dilandau climbed into the cockpit of the alseides unit and instantly felt his whole body relax. He was home. He stood, and it stood, they were one, he and the guymelef.  He quietly left the hangar of the Vione, his men following close behind as the perfectly trained whole he had taught them to be.  A serene calm washed over him, while at the same time adrenaline already began to flow in anticipation of the slaughter. He was after one thing, and the one thing only. The elusive white dragon. He knew Folken was blabbering at him, but didn't quite bother to listen. Nothing could touch him in this machine, he was invincible.  Nothing else was important, if he could get the stupid dragon out of the way.  

"Invisibility cloaks, boys," he said quietly to the Slayers through the intercom. Everyone around him disappeared, as they ought to have.  

He prowled towards the mini outpost he had gotten supplies from earlier.  It had been so old fashioned in compared to Zaibach, how could they live without running water?! Ah, well, time to burn the place to dusty ashes.  Out with the old, in with the new. 

On his signal, they began to attack full force, and no one could see them in order to retaliate, so they all began to flee like swine. That's it, run away you cowards.  He saw somebody on the ground running and squished him underfoot.  His giddy laughter rang through the air as he romped in his deadly playground.  Anything that tried to defy him died.  Soon, everything was aflame, it wasn't hard, they had kept too much mead and wine about. Burn, let the fire take you! It was so exhilarating to watch the flames dance and sweep everything away it. Everything for the flame! Maybe it would smoke the dumb dragon out, as well. It was so fun, the flames and he were having a good laugh over these few exalting moments.  

The Slayers simply followed their captain's example and did their best not too feel guilty while they destroyed the beautiful rustic architecture of the outpost.  That style was so hard to recreate these days.  Chesta, Gatti and Miguel did their job wordlessly, and without spirit.  Their minds lay too heavily on the resent past events.  The fact that Dilandau was enjoying himself with all this senseless destruction didn't help their mood, either.  He would never realize the pain he caused. 

"Do you think you can smoke the dragon out, Dilandau?" taunted Folken's voice. "It is said that birds often build their nests behind waterfalls to protect them from predators."

Oh, yeah, the dragon, that was his priority. "What?! Behind the castle?"

So he headed that way to pursue the dragon.  It's hunting time now.  Somebody wouldn't shut up, so he smacked him.  Oh, it had been one of his Slayers, sorry about that. There! A little levi-ship flew out the water, pathetic. It would have been easy to destroy, if not for the fact that he needed his prey alive.  Damn. The fire in him took control and led the elite force down the ravine to the fleeing levi-ship.  Ah, battle-worthy opponents, Allen Shezar in his out-dated guymelef and the rest of his little pirate crew. This entertained Dilandau for a while, but it led to boredom.  Finally! The dragon revealed itself as it fled in the opposite direction. Excellent, a chase, that _always_ made things fun. He had almost forgotten how fun fighting was. He'd been locked up in that damned ship too long. Good-by dragon, he thought and smirked the pilot's pathetic attempts to evade his attacks.  A simple blast from his crima claw and the dragon was down, much too easy, it was almost a let down. 

Then it dawned on him why the dragon had fled, to save those pathetic pirates! Damn, now he was feeling really cheated.  Lousy dragon, why did he have to go and spoil his fun?! One of his first times out of the Vione in weeks, and he wasn't able to enjoy it to the fullest because this pilot's heroics.  Dilandau only realized he had begun to beat up on the Dragon when Folken asked him about it.  Serves the stupid thing right, resorting to heroics, how low of him.  Effortlessly, he and his Slayers picked up the Ispano guymelef and flew it up to the docking bay.  They set it down and Dilandau dismissed his slayers.

Dilandau decided he would only stay long enough to see who the pilot was.  After that it was naptime, fights always made him sleepy.  Then he could go and reprimand his troops for the sloppy job they did, hadn't he always taught them to be thorough?   Folken opened up the cockpit and the 'melef spit out the pilot as if he had a nasty flavor.  Out rolled that one Fanelian boy he saw at the outpost! Impossible, that runt was Fanelia's king?! He actually felt sorry for the little country.  How did he ever manage to slip into power?  There must have a real shortage of royal blood in Fanelia.  This French-fry didn't even look like he could pick up a sword, let alone mange an entire kingdom.  Bemused, he went to take a nap.

* * * * * * * *

On the way to his chambers, Dilandau overheard a couple of youthful guards gossiping about the king. Wait a second, how could they know that boy was here already?  Dang, news traveled fast around here.  Their information included an accurate description of him, that he was the king of Fanelia and that he was part Draconian. Weird, two out of three correct. Dilandau approached the guards, and they must not have noticed him eavesdropping on their conversation because they almost fell backward when they saw him.    

"You two. Where is this prisoner being held?  Take me to him now." Dilandau demanded of them.

What choice did they have but to follow his command?

So, up in the higher section of the Vione, Dilandau was surprised to see that he was actually being held in a bedroom, not a prison cell.  ~Jeeze, just because he was a king didn't mean you had to give him special treatment, Folken~ He thought to himself.  He forced the guards to promise him that they wouldn't tell anyone that he was here and sent them back to their posts.  The boy-warrior picked the lock to the room and slipped himself inside.  Dilandau looked over the boy and a curious feeling came over him.  It was just like when that . . .thing . . . had held him. There was an absence of misery.  He might even go as far as to admit that he felt . . . but he wouldn't go that far.  It would suffice to admit that this boy was special.  How?  He wasn't willing to find that out presently.

Good thing, too, because at that moment the door to the room was being unlocked. Dilandau had 3.5 seconds to find a place to hide. His first and only option was under the bed, so that's where he disappeared to when none other than Folken himself paced into the room and the Fanelian king awoke above him.

* * * * *

Dilandau's muscles were beginning to become sore from holding their awkward position so long. Then finally the dark-haired king, named Van, collapsed to the floor in a heavy, drug-induced sleep.  Folken left and locked the door behind him.  Had he been crying when he left?  Dilandau dislodged himself from his hiding spot and sat on the bed.  So, the black haired brat and the Strategos were draconian brothers.  What a small world Gaia was.  And his name was Van.  He argued with himself a bit over whether or not it was a stupid name.

This would useful information if ever he wanted to blackmail the Strategos. 

Just looking at this Fanel boy made Dilandau's mouth go dry.  That creamy, tan skin looked so inviting. ~I must be going insane~ he thought reprovingly at himself.  A mere shrimp was in no way going to get the better of him.  Dilandau decided he would heist Van off to his own quarters for a while for further investigation.  Maybe this demon was just another present from that whacko- Death.  

Gingerly, stretching his muscles, Dilandau sauntered over to the little heap on the floor.  Van had fallen into an awkward bundle when he passed out.  Dilandau shook his head and swept Van into his arms, and promptly left the room leaving no trace that he had been there.  Van was surprisingly heavy, this baffled Dilandau, along with the boy's terrible fashion sense.  Obviously he would look much better in plums, and vivid blues, not this tacky red and khaki. Wasn't their country wealthy enough to at least properly dress their royalty?      

With little difficulty, Dilandau backed into his splendid bedroom, which looked more like it belonged in a castle than a floating fortress.  Dilandau dropped Van to go run and jump onto his four-poster bed, so big and soft.  He'd almost completely forgotten about Van, except that he'd dropped Van on his head, and therefore he woke up. 

Van groaned, and struggled to stand up.  He was in deep shock that his brother was still alive.  He held back tears of joy, and of sadness.  If his brother was alive, why didn't he simply come back home?  They had always supported each other, and kept each other going in times of hardship.  One always looked after the other, Folken had broken that trust.  Van had to live all alone when he left and it had almost killed him.

 " Are you going to attempt to run away, Fanel?  I must say, you are not very good at it," Dilandau smirked.  "Even if you were, there's nowhere to run to. You're in the heart of Zaibach territory now, and you're all mine."

Van shot his head in the direction of the sound of that menacing voice he _knew_ he had heard before.  There lay the albino boy in all his cat-like glory stretched out on the bed.  Van looked around for any type of crude weapon, but the room seemed void of anything useful.  

"Damn . . ." Van muttered and made a rash decision.  He bolted for the open balcony window.

Dilandau leapt to the ground and after the Draconian King. ~Shit! The little twit is going to fly the coup!~  Van threw himself over the railing and smiled at the freedom he felt opening his wings.  He stretched them and felt the wind move though his feathers, this was bliss.  He was about to fly into the wild blue yonder when out of nowhere another external force tackled him.  It was Dilandau, hanging onto him with a death grip and a rope tied firmly around his torso. 

Van clenched his teeth and looked ready to strangle the Captain.  Except, the look he was getting from the crazed pyro was completely unexpected.  Dilandau's eyes pleaded Van not to leave,  as if he needed to keep Van close and losing him would mean death.  Van's heart did a 180, how could this guy have such a strong display of emotions in something that dealt in anything other than war?   They hung in mid air, taken back by one another.  

Dilandau was close to tears at how beautiful this creature was.  These wings were what made Draconians into demons?  Whoever made that up was stupid, this was actually beautiful.  With one hand, Dilandau untied his lifeline.  He was confident in this angel that had come to save his soul.  He would not let him plummet to his doom.  Quite innocently, Dilandau wrapped both of his arms tightly around Van's neck. He sighed at the weightlessness he felt at being suspended here in the air, the complete peace he felt being close to his very own Angel of light.  Heaven had saved him,  Shi would never hold any sway over his life ever again.  He was home.

Van tensed up as Dilandau rested his head against his bare chest.  The only thing about using his wings was that he lost whatever shirt he was wearing.  Despite everything, Van no longer wanted to kill this . . . guy hanging around his neck.  He swallowed a nervous lump that had been growing in the back of his throat.  Van reluctantly  flew back to the balcony, which required extra exertion due to the excessive weight he was carrying.  By the time they alighted on the Vione, Van was very out of breath.  Van let his wings disintegrate and the leftover feathers flew everywhere.

* * * * * On the Crusade* * * * *

Hitomi forgot all about Van when Allen swept her off her feet and carried her off to his private chambers.

"We'll look for the dragon in the morning, if that's alright with you Hitomi."

Hitomi had a terrible nosebleed and used three full handkerchiefs before it stopped.  Then Allen turned his charm-'o-meter on to Full Blast and, well you can guess what happened next. [an: Grins evilly and snickers]   

* * * * *Ahem! Where we were!* * * * *

Dilandau steadied on the ground, then turned back to Van and pulled him into a close embrace.  He rested his head in the crook of the neck of the shorter boy and breathed in the wild scent of Fanelia. Fate had sent this precious present and he was not about to let anything part them.  Van felt the possessiveness in the touch of the Albino boy and got very scared. 

@ @ @ @ @ @ @ @

And that will be the chapter. Yup! Did ya like it? It was fun to write.  Please tell me what you thought. I'm anxious to know. : ) Sorry about the AllenxHitomi thing. It just happened. *smirk* It had to happen.


	7. Caught Beween

So, here is chapter . . .6? Yeah, 6. And I have a warning: it gets _sorta_ lemony. Um, so NO FLAMES!! I gave a warning!! It's all fair! If you don't like BoyxBoy relationships just skip the first half of this chapter.  Thank you! Oh, And while I'm at it, I might as well mention that I don't own Any of the Characters mentioned in Escaflowne. Thanks for reading!!

* * * * * * *

Van resigned himself to sitting quietly on the bed as Dilandau lost himself in the smells of some incense he had found on his nightstand that morning, the note that accompanied it had said 'burn this slowly' and that's what Dilandau had done.  

"Van, come sit next to me, angel," Dilandau said rather slowly as he patted the carpet next to him.

Van had been irked since last night when he had failed to escape out the window.  After that, things had simply gotten weirder and weirder.  Van shook his head in disgust.  He was not letting that creep near him again.  Dilandau got an extremely annoyed look on his face.  Instead, Dilandau decided he would have to go and crawl over to his savior angel.  The incense was infiltrating Vans senses bit by bit and he suddenly found he couldn't concentrate correctly.  He gripped the sheets to try not to fall over.  He was feeling so dizzy, he fell back on the bed anyhow to try to and ground himself.  Even opening his eyes would have been too much . . . It was that incense . . . 

Dilandau laid Van down and took a deep breath.  This scent was so beautiful, it let him drift away.  He trailed a lazy finger along Van's chest, reveling in the feel of his peach-fuzz soft skin.  The albino boy laid his head against Van's heart.  He was so warm, and alive.  So unlike his life, full of stagnant death.  His tongue instinctively reached out to taste the flesh so close to his mouth.  

Van drew in a sharp breath of surprise when he felt Dilandau flick his tongue out across his skin.  So, this is what gets under the Dragon's skin?  Dilandau smiled and turned his mouth's attentions to Van completely.  He drew his kisses up Van's neck, sending sensations up and down Van's spine.  A pale hand wound itself into his dark, wild hair.  Van arched up against Dilandau's wet fingers slowly circling his nipples. Van elicited a soft moan.  Dilandau noticed that the Fanelian boy was no longer just warm, he was hot.  He captured Van's trembling lips with his own and slid the tip of his tongue just inside them.  Van bravely reached up to feel who this other was.  He felt cold, unnaturally smooth skin, how could someone be this cold?  Van encircled the frigid body with his arms and held it close.  Van's warmth melted into Dilandau, it made him realize his need for his angel.

"Va~an . . ." the albino boy whispered, "Angel . . .".

 Van forced his heavy eyelids to open, and did nothing when he recognized it as his sworn enemy that was pleasuring him.  Dilandau tossed his legs over Van so that he straddled him.  No one had ever struck Dilandau as really being beautiful before, but, heaven had made a true mistake when they let this angel go.       

"Damn, your lovely . . ." Dilandau mused as he sat up admire sight beneath him.

Van's eyes suddenly turned concerned, begging Dilandau to please, not stop.  Dilandau's look turned coy, as he realized he'd found another weakness of the Fanelian King.  The taunt of doing nothing, or moving unbearably slow motivated Dilandau.  He licked his lips and delayed the decent of his mouth onto the Angel's areola.  Van forced himself to breath as Dilandau continued his ministrations.  Van was amazed at the tenderness this hardened warrior could exhibit with just his tongue.  Dilandau started moving his kisses lower, keeping pace to match molasses. While a hand went ahead and prepared the Fanelian boy.

Dilandau was ecstatic! His angel had finally found him, the one other being that felt better than death.  Moreover, _his_ angel was going to take him to heaven.  He seemed intent on memorizing Van's body with his mouth.  Dilandau's fingers slid the pants of the dark skinned boy down, revealing his angel in all of his glory.  

~ No underwear, interesting ~ thought Dilandau.

For a fleeting moment, Van wondered if he was following the right path, letting this cold-blooded killer take him like this.  Why was he being so compliant?  Dilandau suddenly swallowed him base to tip and immediately halted that train of thought.  Van lost all coherencies to the stars as Dilandau began swirling his tongue around the head faster and faster.

"Ah!" Van gasped at the intense emotions he was thrown into.

Dilandau smiled inwardly at the interesting noises he was hearing shouted from the lips of his newest and only lover.  He felt the strength of the king in his hips, as he continually had to hold them down to keep Van from bucking into him.  Van threw his head back onto the pillows hard, the heat was growing inside him and it did not stop. 

In hours and no time at all, Van came into Dilandau's mouth.  He managed to swallow most of it, but didn't really take the time to clean up.  Van's breath was heavy and labored. His raven-black hair had matted itself to his forehead and his skin gleamed with a fine sheen of sweat, but the Albino was just getting started.  Dilandau hastily removed his own pants and violet tank top. Van looked at Dilandau questioningly, what more in Gaia could they do? Dilandau just smiled and took them to heaven on a feather-coated cloud.

* * * * * * 8 * Meanwhile elsewhere on Gaia* 8 * * * * * *

"I can find Van with this here pink pendant of mine," Hitomi declared, and finished another glass of vino.

Allen giggled and retorted, "But, Hitomi-love, you're so drunk you couldn't find your _nose _with that pendant of yours.

He put the fifth empty bottle upside-down in the bucket of ice and almost fell out of his chair laughing at Hitomi. Who was trying to find her nose with her pendant, but kept missing and ended up bonking her ears several times.  Gaddes sighed and shook his head at the two.  To bad they were both too drunk to know that Zaibach had totally devastated the Crusade, even if they _had _managed to go into hiding in the Fanelian forests.  Allen-san had been too careless, that stupid girl from the Mystic moon was causing nothing but trouble.  Even if he _did_ have a reputation, now was most decidedly not the time for it!  They had left their post, and the last heir of an entire country was in their charge of protection! They needed to go and rescue him!

"Ah-hem! Allen, sir, I should think we have more pressing matters to deal with than a good joke over vino," he decided to press onto his commander.

Upon hearing the reminder from Gaddes, Allen straitened up, "Yes, of course, Gaddes.  Hitomi, please allow this fine young man escort you to your room.  I need to get back to the deck."  Allen hiccupped and stumbled out of the room.

Gaddes groaned at the realization that he had received the responsibility of taking the overly drunk girl to her quarters.  He picked her up by the waist and flung her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, knowing she would most likely pass out before he got her there.  ~ Nobody should drink this much during a war ~ Gaddes thought to himself. He made a mental note not to stalk the Crusade with more wine until the war was over.

"Hey! You perrty person you, *hic* where are you going to be taking me, now?" Hitomi asked, but Gaddes could barely make it out and just ignored her mumbling the rest of the way.

When Gaddes was finally able to get back to the main deck, he found the guys puzzling over what to do with a very passed out Allen, hugging a bottle of vino he had somehow picked up along the way.  Gaddes rubbed his forehead, not looking forward to the following morning when he knew he would have two people with very bad hangovers on his hands.  He started shouting orders at the remaining crew, beginning with getting Allen to his sleeping chambers. . . 

* * * * * * 8* And back on the Vione, just not with the spent "lovebirds" * 8 * * * * * *

It was already noon and Dilandau-sama had _still_ not shown up yet!  This had  to stop!   Guimel had resorted to becoming second in command, and it was _not_ going smoothly.  Enough of the boys, especially the younger ones, had consented to his command, but things were still haywire.  Ever since Gatti, Miguel and Chesta had decided to go inactive, nobody else seemed motivated.  If only Dilandau would bother with them anymore! The whole group was desperate for his attentions, even if it was painful.  If the only sort of physical contact they got with him was the split second he hit them, that was one split second more than now.  

Dalet had turned into a total peacock, absolutely refusing to wear the uniform, and only donned the latest foreign fashion.  Chesta never showed up anymore, he was becoming quite the cook down in the kitchens.  Miguel usually stayed in bed, and randomly came out to challenge the world to a duel with swords.  Every body scattered when that happened now, last time he'd put Viole in the infirmary. 

Things had taken a sudden 180 in only three of four days.  It only proved one thing about Dilandau-sama, you couldn't live with him, and you couldn't live without him.  Guimel continued to instruct one of the thirteen year olds in how to hold his sword correctly.  Viole wasn't any help, he just kept shamelessly beating the same few boys over and over.

Then there was Gatti.  He'd fallen into the worst state.  Guimel was sure something had transpired between Gatti their Captain that one night that he didn't come back. He just didn't know exactly what.  They had all taken abuse from their commander for quite some time, Gatti more than most, so what could have caused him to go into such a depression?  Guimel's deep thinking had caused him to lose the dual and he called time out for the group that was still willing to train.

He went to the showers to clear out his mind.  As of late, Gatti had been found with sliced wrists, almost hanged himself, overdosed on pain killers, oh, and there was the time that he had threatened to jump off of the Vione.  What could Albatou-sama have done to him to make him so desperate to commit suicide?  Especially because he had not come back with any signs of physical damage.  That would only leave verbal abuse, and Dilandau didn't have a very large range of insults, he knew. Even Dilandau doing his absolute worst with only words, Gatti was strong enough to withstand any of that.  

Guimel found that his wandering thoughts had brought him to the object of his thoughts, Dilandau-sama's corridor.  He froze in place when he saw who was peeking into Dilandau-sama's bedroom.  

* * * * * * *

And that be-eth the endth of the 6th chapter – eth!!!!! You guys won't have a clue what I have planned for the next chapter!!! Gya-ha-ha!!! Please review and tell me what you think, and like I said at the top, no flames! I gave you a warning and if you didn't read it that's your fault. Sorry!  Thanx much!!  


	8. No More Tears to Cry

Ok!! I just have to sit down and write this chapter like I've been meaning to for quite some time. I finally got some reviews for my last chapter. It had been so long since I'd gotten a review that I had feared all of my faithful fans had forgotten about me! How silly I was to think such a thing! For I know now that you will always, most-likely, come and read! I have begun a new fic as well, so when I don't feel like adding on to this story, I'll be writing the first chapter for that.

I really want to take the time and dedicate this chapter to a few people: The Anti-Fan, Michiru3, Feye Morgan, WaTaShIwA ShInImEgAmI, and, VoilesDragonGurl. Oh! And Angel of Re! Can't forget her! You all need to go and check these people out! They are EXCELLENT writers that need Lots of reviews from you all! Thank you, and now that I'm done with my advertising, I'll let you read the next chapter. I believe we left off at a cliffhanger . . . .

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Guimel found that his wandering thoughts had led his feet to the eeriest of places, Dilandau-sama's corridor. ~Dang I had meant to go to the showers . . .~ He was about to turn around.  He froze in place when he saw who was peeking into Dilandau-sama's bedroom.

Miguel was gripping the door handle tightly, and from what Guimel could tell, he was red in the face about _something_.  Miguel looked as if he was about to rip the Vione to shreds with his katana.  Very quietly, and with overstressed precision, he shut the door and turned towards Guimel.  Guimel inhaled sharply and froze, he felt as if he was in the very shadow of the Reaper of Souls. Perhaps if he didn't move, Miguel wouldn't notice him.  It was likely, he figured, since Miguel seemed more intent on grumbling at his boots than anything else.   Only a few paces away now, and Guimel realized he was getting dizzy from holding his breath, he slowly exhaled. 

For an instant, it appeared Miguel would just entirely ignore him, but time stopped as Miguel did right beside him. Guimel clenched his trembling hands together and swallowed.  Guimel _knew_ he was no match for Miguel, and most likely never would be. Miguel was just so strong!  It quickly crossed his mind who might miss him should he die right here. Not many names came to mind.  

"Don't tell a soul you saw me here, _Guimel_," Miguel whispered as a harsh threat.  Guimel nodded in agreement as fast as he had ever answered anyone in his life. Miguel's grave glare sealed their little deal and he strode away. His aura had oozed a hatred so strong that Guimel could feel it even after he had disappeared around the corner.

"Sheesh! That guy needs to start taking his pills, and some anger management classes wouldn't hurt either!" Guimel flipped him off and strutted away. He figured the best thing for his health would be to just forget the whole incident.  Even though curiosity tugged at him to find out what exactly what Miguel had seen to make him seethe so. He stopped and looked back, a good subordinate stayed in rank.  He went and was never there.     

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Folken's eyes widened in shock as he listened to the secret Miguel imparted to him.  He pushed Miguel away and pointedly marched to Dilandau Albatou's quarters.  How dare that spoiled good for nothing brat! Folken exuded fury, his cloak dramatically flowed around him as he practically flew through the halls.  His eyes flashed a painful coldness normally never present in his calm, cool, collected state.  Dilandau had gone behind his back and defiled his very _brother._ Folken was ready to tear the hide off of Dilandau himself for this insubordination.  No form of retribution would be strong enough to make Folken feel justified.  He would see Dilandau **hanged** in the end!

Dilandau lay on his back enjoying a quiet make-out session with his dearest Van, which Van had actually initiated.  He had his hands lovingly placed on Van's back.  He was still amazed that he had been saved.  Death was conquered; he was free from its cold grip.  With Fanelia at its side, Zaibach could win the war, and he would be promoted for it.  His angel would always be right there keeping him safe.  Inside Van's mind, he had thoroughly forgotten about anything that had ever mattered to him before.  This silver haired wonder was his only care now.  Somehow, he couldn't concentrate with Dilandau so close.  He was sure he would never know what Dilandau did to him.  Either way, he figured he liked it. Maybe . . . 

They were both still flushed with the after glow of love making when Folken burst wide the strong oak doors to the room.  Every reservation Folken had kept in place was gone and his true dragon nature shone, with his every flame aimed at Dilandau.  Dilandau had shoved Van off of him the split second he had entered. Now Dilandau sat in his bed, living proof of what Miguel had betrayed to Folken's ears.  He clenched his fingers around the sheets as he felt his ears and cheeks turn bright pink at being caught.  This was _not_ what was supposed to happen, shit . . .   

Van and Dilandau laid there completely vulnerable to the Strategos' wrath.    

"Brother . . ." Van meekly offered in apology, though, despite every better judgment, he was not ashamed of his choices. "Brother, I . . . I _wanted_ this," and hugged Dilandau's arm to himself. "and I'm old enough to decide for myself . . ." He said this so quietly that even Dilandau wasn't sure he heard what Van said.

Folken ignored his sibling and strode to Dilandau's side.  Dilandau squeezed Vans hand as a final comfort before Folken dragged him away nude to the dungeons. Folken's steal talons broke skin and almost crushed the bone of Dilandau's right arm on the way down, but that would be only be counted as a minor injury among the many others he would soon sustain . . .

Van looked at the desolate room and empty bed around him and wept.  Inwardly he was torn between his brother, who had betrayed him, and Dilandau, who had nearly killed him on many occasions on the battlefield.  Dilandau had hardly seemed like a warrior when they'd slept together, but that was his true nature.  Van started thinking about what he'd done and a wave of guilt swept though him.  He had willingly given everything he had left to _him_, and now there was no one left.  He felt a dull ache as his stomach twisted in knots.  He was all alone, his friends and ally's had deserted him to Zaibach, his country lay in ruins, and now he had sacrificed his body to the enemy.  He truly had nothing.  Yet his tears still fell.

Miguel snaked around the corner; a sadistic grin graced his face.  He fingered his trusty dagger, which he had been compulsively sharpening over the last few days.  So _this_ was who had taken his Captain, his patron, his _love_ from him? It was just a stupid foreign prisoner boy.  This boy would only hurt his precious commander, he was the enemy. Miguel was there to see to it that this amorous thieving slut felt his raging jealousy and fury that had been pent up for so long.  Just as he had planned, Folken had taken Dilandau away and now the whore was there to face his justice all-alone.

"Hey, _slut_, are you feeling lucky? Because, you know, you got _very_ luck today with my captain Albatou-sama," Miguel spat at the crying boy.  Van looked up to see whom this offensive voice belonged to.  Another boy, not much older than he was, slunk from the door to his side of the bed.  He wore the same uniform as Dilandau, except it was blue instead of red.  His whole appearance was unkempt, as if he hadn't slept or cared for himself in several days.  His usually soft, wheat colored hair was oily and he had dark circles around his eyes.  Van gathered the bed spread around himself and wished his pants weren't so far away, his eyes narrowed at Miguel.   

"Who are you?" Van questioned warily, as he wiped his face dry. He would cry later.

"I'm his lover, Miguel.  I see you chose to seduce him, think you own him now do you?" Miguel lied.  He smiled sweetly as he watched Van almost snap right there and then. "He didn't tell you about me then, I see."

Miguel came closer to Van, the glint of his dagger in the light of the setting sun.  Van realized what Miguel's intentions were. 

"Obviously he was getting bored with me and decided to pick up a new hobby," He looked down at Van, "Not a very _good_ hobby, apparently."

Van wondered if what Miguel was saying was true.  Was he truly just a substitute, a temporary distraction for Dilandau?  Did he really sell himself out as a play thing?  He clenched his teeth and became determined to not listen to this crazed soldier. 

"I knew you'd think I was lying," Miguel said wistfully, as he sat down and started tracing the pattern on the comforter. 

Without any fore warning, and as fast as lighting Miguel plunged his dagger through Van's foot.  An unbelievable amount of pain sped up his leg and forced him to cry out in shock and pain.

"What the F*CK!!" Van cussed and tried to launch himself off of the bed. However, he didn't get anywhere due to the knife still being stuck _through_ him and into the bed.

"Oh! I'm sorry! Did that hurt? Good! Then try this on for pain!" Miguel said as he punctured holes all the way up Van's leg to his thigh. 

Van's blood spilled all over the immediate area, and he almost fainted at the smell of his own blood.   Miguel dipped a hand in it and smeared it all over Van's face.  Van figured his best option, seeing no weapons nearby, would be to escape out the balcony, as he had tried to do before.  Miguel giggled in sadistic glee as he watched Van try not to touch his leg and still crawl away.  He was half way to the balcony when Miguel kicked him onto his back and buried the bloody dagger in his stomach, careful not to hit any vital points, he still wanted him _alive_.  

"Oh my, look at the mess you've made.  Now someone will have to clean you off the floors!" Miguel laughed. This was _precisely_ what he'd been wanting to do to someone for ages.  The sight of blood merely fueled his anger.

Van pulled the knife out of himself and continued to drag himself away. If he could only reach the balcony! He could fly away and be rid himself of this hell he'd fallen into. His breathing was labored and he was getting tired and dizzy from loss of blood.  He would live! He would make it back to Fanelia somehow and save his people! Thoughts like these carried him further.

Miguel simply watched as Van tried desperately to take himself to his only escape.  Miguel was certainly curious as to what the slut thought he was going to do. Maybe throw himself over the edge? That would be amusing to watch him attempt.  Van reached the railing and realized that he'd have to hoist himself up.  It would be easy to just fly away from right here . . . 

Miguel's mouth dropped open as he witnessed Van unfurl his perfectly pure white wings.  He jumped up grabbed Van by his hurt leg and dragged him back though his own trail of blood, away from freedom.  No Way! This brat was Draconian?! Holy Shit . . . Miguel felt compelled to kill this thing just because he was a demon, it was his moral duty to take this thing out.  Van almost gave up hope, but he felt a new strength from having his wings revealed. 

"Let me go, Miguel," Van commanded quietly but with much power behind his tone of voice.

"Don't tell _me_ what to do demon!!" Miguel shouted at him.

Inspired, Miguel drew his katana from it's sheath and lined up his next blow.  Van tried to use his wings to help him get away, but some of the feathers were soaked with gleaming crimson liquid. Other then that though, he had simply lost too much blood to properly use them.  The effort Van was using to move forced his heart to work harder, pumping even more blood out and away from him, draining him even further.  A strong wave of nausea caused him to collapse in the small pool around him as he struggled to remain conscious.  Miguel's triumphant laughter stung Van's ears.  

Miguel let his katana fall and it hit true to its mark.  Van felt nothing for a moment, the pain was slow to get to him, but he suddenly felt lighter on his left side. He let his head fall that way and saw that he had been severed from one of his blood stained wings.  Van heard the sword fall again and new that he could never fly again.  This was a greater pain then any he had ever felt before. Tears welled up inside him, but he had no strength to cry them.  He felt himself fading, he closed his eyes and thought of Fanelia.

Deep in the underbelly of the Vione, Dilandau was feeling his own pains . . .

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ok!!!!  That is the bloodiest thing I've ever written . . . I want to promise the audience I do NOT hate Van-chan!!!!!! I only hate Miguel now.  I want to apologize for this, I didn't know how incredibly violent this was going to get. 

There are still a few chapters to go, and I'll try to make this end as happy as I can.  I'm only human.  Please review, and you can flame me for this chapter, if you really must . . .but look at it this way, at least it isn't some "_horrible_" lemon scene! [Snicker] (As a lemon snitch would say, anyhow. I really don't like people who rat out lemons to FF.net. I don't know why they want to get rid of all lemon on FF.net. I think thought their motto was: unleash your imagination and free your soul!!! Well, I most certainly can't unleash my imagination without a few good lemons! Sorry, Ranting there, just ignore me . . . .)  

I'll start writing the next chappie as soon as I get over this one. Thank you all so much keeping with this!!!!! And maybe this wasn't the best chapter to do dedications on.  . . Oh well, I had to get you guys in there some time. Thanks Again!


	9. Visions of Hope

Here comes round two: Chapter 8.  Now that we're all crying from last chapter, let me induce a few _more_ tears!  Yea!  This story is very close to being done.  I'm very grateful for all the reviews you peoples give me! You're all too kind. I want to give peoples MORE penguins! This chappie gets to be dedicated to Etowato.  I am very Very greatful for her reviews, and all of you other peeps too!, anyhow, here are the penguins:

(^v^) (^v^)(^v^) (^v^)(^v^) (^v^)(^v^) (^v^)(^v^) (^v^)(^v^) (^v^)(^v^) (^v^)(^v^) (^v^)

There we go. I like penguins, couldn't you tell?  Have a jolly time reading this! (Although I'm not so sure you will . . .) 

How long has it been since I've done a disclaimer? *thinks* Too long if I have to think about it.

Disclaimer!: Escaflowne would have about a million sequels by now if I actually owned it! Does it have any sequels?! NOO! Same goes for me owning Escaflowne, have a nice day.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Miguel looked at the dead demon on the floor. His broken, severed wings were matted and useless now.  Miguel reached down and plucked a blood-speckled feather off of one of them.  It looked just like it belonged to bird.  He blew it into the air and watched as it lightly wafted down to land on the neck of the demon slut. He giggled to himself for no reason.   He finally felt justified. He noticed how _messy_ everything was.  A semblance of reason settled on him and he realized he probably wouldn't want to be found there, in the middle of a massacre.  He almost slipped on the wet floor on his way out, but was just able to save himself from falling.  He went away, wondering if was dinnertime yet, all the carnage had made him hungry.  He did not notice he was leaving a trail of betraying red footprints in his wake . . . 

* ` * ` * ` *

Dilandau realized more and more what he had gotten himself into. Folken had found him fooling around his little brother. He tried to remain relaxed, as not to sustain more damage as Folken dragged him down the stairs.  He'd given up trying to keep up with Folken so he just let himself be dragged along.  He noticed that he couldn't move or feel his right hand. Folken's steel grip was blocking all blood flow, as well as almost crushing his arm.  Dilandau had felt worse pain though, he was sure the real hurt would come later. In minutes they reached the well-stocked torture chamber of the Vione. Dilandau had been down there many times, but _never_ as the victim. 

He had an extensive knowledge of exactly how much pain some of the instruments down there could cause, he winced and tried not to think about it.  Nevertheless, as Dilandau saw the fated iron door he started to panic.  He threw all of his strength against going in there, but it was like stopping a train. Utterly useless.  

Folken was wondering what to do first.  Hang the whelp from a pole and slowly whip his skin away, or gouge out eyes and cut off his ears?  Both sounded so tempting.  How dare he do such unspeakable things to his very own brother?!  He was on fire with anger.  It was only a matter of pain until Dilandau would be begging him for death.  The corners of Folken's mouth turned up ever so slightly as he thought of the anguish he would make Dilandau pay for harming his precious Van.  ~Oh, Van, I can not give you back your innocence, but I _will_ make your perpetrator wish he'd ever been born!~ 

The room itself was impeccably sterile, but you can never wash away the smell of death and rotted flesh.  Not much care had been taken to light the place.  Only one dull, yellow light hung near the entrance.  Another blue lamp threw shadows every which way, making everything look like lurking monster.  All of it's fear-inspiring steel-made devices were very cold to the touch.  The walls and ceiling had not been altered, they were sharp and dangerous jagged rock.  It reminded them that they were in a giant floating rock and not in a luxury cruise ship.

Dilandau raged and cursed at the Strategos. Bit and scratched and did everything in his power to try and make Folken let him go, but to no avail.  Folken tied him up so tightly that the bonds bit into his skin and made him bleed. The Strategos threw his cloak away from himself, not wishing to have to dry-clean it later. All his smoldering, pent up loathing for this lewd runt was on the verge of flowing over.  The ancestry of demons ran in his veins and demanded to take vengeance against this albino freak of nature.  Folken would satiate the demon within.  

Folken picked up the nearest weapon, a bullwhip embedded with glass. He turned it about in his hands, letting Dilandau see just what he planned to do. A twisted smile spread across his features.  Dilandau closed his eyes and was almost able to completely ignore the first stinging lash of the whip. His thoughts turned completely to his love and savior, Van.  His sweet, pouty lips that parted for him like water. His rich, wild, ebony hair that matched his untamed Fanelian scent. Dilandau forgot almost entirely about the fact that he was on a frigid, steel table being lashed and that his bonds were cutting off circulation everywhere they lay on him.  How tight and hot Van was, receptive and responsive to his every need as soon as he needed it. Just as perfect as angels were supposed to be.  The way he sounded shouting his name over and over just sent chills up and down Dilandau's spine.  

Folken poured salt into Dilandau's many numerous open wounds and pleasured in watching Dilandau suddenly start writhing like a fish out of water. He wasn't able to do a thing as the salt pulled the moisture out of him and foamed.  Dilandau's screams were hoarse as his vocal cords became raw and it hurt to breath.  

"This is only the beginning," Folken whispered to Dilandau when the sounds he had made stopped echoing.   

Dilandau struggled to pull the image of his angel back into his mind and get himself back together.  He spat at Folken, and it landed on the Strategos' face.  Dilandau smirked in triumph. Folken would _never _break him!  He narrowed his eyes and suddenly felt like he could take anything Folken could dish out.  

Folken's face contorted with disgust as he wiped the spittle off from between his eyes.  He discarded the whip and went to look for something more effective.  Dilandau snickered to himself.  If Folken thought that he could hurt the boy-warrior, he was sorely mistaken.  Nothing would ever tear him away from his Van, not even death, and most certainly not a jealous big brother!  Dilandau began trying to gnaw at the ties around his wrists, but he couldn't quite tell where his flesh ended and the cord began.  The Strategos came back over with a wicked grin upon his face.  He quickly snatched Dilandau up by the crook of his neck, well aware of the pressure points he was squeezing. 

"I've thought of something better for you . . ." Folken hissed at Dilandau.

The albino lifted a sideways eyebrow at Folken after he had finished tying him face-down, eagle-spread to a giant wooden wheel.  This was certainly an odd sort of torture; no pain involved at all, simply a tad uncomfortable.  Dilandau suddenly became wary.  

"I've just called a messenger to send for all soldiers looking to relive some tension.  As you know we have no women onboard the Vione as they cause. . .unnecessary distractions for the men," Folken illuminated in the most careful of wordings. "They should be here any minute." 

Dilandau was still confused.  Nothing was making since.  What would Folken want with all those horny guys?  What did it all have to do with him?  It was true about half of the Vione was stir-crazy. They were going to land again for supplies in a color, and it had already been five colors since they'd last restocked.  Dilandau mentally shrugged his shoulders.  Good for Folken if he thought he had found a way tide them all over for a while.  Both were smiling very smugly to themselves.  The Strategos knew just the way to bring justice to the whelp. Dilandau was sure that Folken had run out of steam.  

A couple of greasy looking men burst into the room, they were wheezing as if they had run all the way down there in no time flat.  Folken nodded his head in the direction of Dilandau and mouthed the words to them /_He's yours_/.  They played rock-paper-scissors and the taller one won.  He advanced toward the tied down boy.  Dilandau was trying to examine the state of his fingernails (with little luck) when he felt something hard position itself above his entrance.  His whole body knotted up at the touch.

In a wave, it hit him what Folken's dirty intentions were. Immediately before he was taken and violated in the most degrading way known to man-kind.  He clenched his jaw against crying out in pain. Not too much longer than ten minutes and the first of many shot his load into Dilandau.  He sayed slumped on top for a moment, the withdrew and backed off to make way for the next man.  He could not battle the tear-drops that forced their way between his eyelids.  He heaved up his breakfast in disgust with himself after the third.  This hurt in every sense of the word.  It was degrading and humiliating, revolting and abusive.  Even this was low for Folken, the man who had betrayed his country to flames.  One would finish with him, and another would come and have their way.  Half of the calvary on the Vione had responded to the call, and none of them wanted just one ride.  Dilandau felt himself tear repeatedly.  No one was even careful, nor gentle, nothing like Van.  Where was his angel?  By number ten, Dilandau's slender hips were sore from bodies much to large for him forcing him to accommodate them.  The pain was not something he could just ignore.  He could never be Van's entirely now.  A piece of his soul left with each of those who violated him.  Soon he was feeling empty inside, almost cold.  He was unclean and spoiled, nothing an angel deserved.  Inside, Dilandau gave up. 

~Oh, Van . . .~ 

Folken sat back in a rolling chair and laughed at Dilandau's position outright.  This is what he'd done to Van, so it was only fair that Dilandau received a taste of his own medicine.  Folken kept encouraging the men to go back for more, they had more than thirty days till they touched land again, might as well take advantage of the opportunity.  Quite a few of the men had grudges against Dilandau, for one petty reason or another and enjoyed humiliating him.  A few of them took the liberty and the time to make the albino cum for them. That always got laughs all around.

Dilandau went deep into his mind to keep from reacting to his situation.  Sometimes he would try and imagine it was Van who was with him, but he was never able to keep the image long.  After about an hour or so he was so spent that he dozed off.  However someone noticed and they bashed his head against one of the wheels wooden spokes.  He didn't go back to sleep after that.  His head hurt so bad. All of him felt so bad.  Where was his angel, Van? Heaven had not forsaken him, had it?  He dared not hope against hope that Van would still be there for him.  No one cared that he was here.  No one at all.  

Dilandau almost inaudibly uttered the one word, "help . . ."

Hours later, the last one stumbled away out the door.  Folken untied the limp body of Dilandau. He was deep in troubled sleep, breath not coming as easily as it should.  He dragged the gooey, sticky, bloody mess that was Dilandau back to the steal table they'd started out on.  He ceremoniously secured his arms and legs in the rack. This would be a delightfully slow way to watch him die. Folken looked in hate at Dilandau.  Van would never have to bother with this abomination again.  Folken twisted a corkscrew into his side to wake him up, which did the trick quite successfully.  Dilandau came back to painful reality with a sharp gasp.  His head was reeling with pain, he felt sick, but he knew there was no more to throw up.  He dry-heaved anyway, resulting in a little blood to spatter onto his pale lips.  Folken wiped away a small clump of hair plastered to his forehead by sweat.  The Madoushi failed with this experiment, he would have to tell them.  

Folken began turning the crank all at once until he was pretty sure he had dislocated Dilandau's shoulders.  Dilandau bit his tongue, but he found no point in holding back now.  He was dead and there was only hell waiting for him.  He let the pain wash over and through him, yet found no voice to carry it out.  He heard the gears turn more and his legs popped out of their sockets, too.  He was suspended taught and he did not touch the table anymore.  Dilandau leaned his head back and began falling back into the dizziness.  Soon he would be in the clutches of devils, who would punish him endlessly for the life he lived.  He concluded that that damned Folken had turned the crank again because he felt tendons ripping and ligaments tearing in his arms and legs.  The end was so close, he would die and no one cared.    

He opened his eyes for what he decided was the last time, and saw the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  Van's heavenly face glowed down at him, framed by drifting feathers.  He forgot everything but the vision he beheld before him.   

"Van?"

Dilandau reached his hand up to touch his face and make sure it was real.  His wine colored eyes sparkled in overwhelming joy.  He lightly placed his fingers on one soft cheek. Van leaned into the touch, a soft smile graced Van's lips.  Dilandau sat up and took Van into the longest, happiest embrace ever noted in Gaea.  Van's pure, white, glowing wings enveloped the both of them in their snow-soft blanket. Time stopped.  Dilandau took a deep breath in the place he could finally call home.  They would have eternity to love one another.   

They ended with a small kiss.  Dilandau stood and looked over his lover, he was never more perfect.  Van thought the very same about his clean, dressed, and impeccably groomed koibito.  Shi was there as well, ready to show them the way to paradise.  Dilandau and Van wrapped their arms all over each other and walked onward.   

Without looking back, without saying a word, they led each other into a garden, verdant and full of bloom.  Shi quietly followed them and closed and locked the door to the garden behind Itself.  

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *         

that's not the end . . . *wink*


	10. Till we Meet Again

Chapter 9, I'm really sad that I'm going to have to end this! I've become so in love with this story and tormenting Dilandau and stuff . . . kinda. But, all good things must come to an end, I suppose.  That's why I've been holding off writing this chappie. That, and the fact that school started and my body demands a full 8-9 hours of sleep.  +homework. I envy all of you insomniacs! (to a small degree) Oh, also there are spoilers abound, so if your saving yourself to watch the end of the series all on your own, don't read the end of this, thanxs! But, that's enough yammering from me, so let's start this thing! *****shoots gun*** **And they're off!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Folken gazed, glared even at the carcass of the late Dilandau Albatou.  His eyes narrowed in contempt of the lewd whelp.  His death had been delivered far too swiftly to be fully enjoyed.  He unclamped the body and let it fall with a thud to the table.  His breath became icy, frozen clouds left his lungs and hovered in front of his face for a moment, then dissipated. Only for him to exhale again and a new mist formed around him.  He replaced his cloak about his shoulders and left quietly and uneventfully, ghosting down the halls in his usual silent, eerie manor.  He let a tear slip from his eyes in regret for his brother.  His revenge was done.  Folken migrated towards the room he had last seen Van. Who knows where he could be now?

As he came into the hallway in front of the Albino's chambers, he saw the dark trail of footprints leading away from the door and fear griped his heart.  He felt, no, he knew something had happened to his dearest brother.  He ran into the room and laid eyes on the blood soaked scene.  Trails ran from the bed to the window and everywhere in between.  His breath caught in his throat and his mouth hung stunned.  The scent of it assaulted his nostrils, the blood had not yet dried.  There in the very thick of it, lay Van bathing in his own pool of blood.  Folken stopped breathing.

In an instant he was at his brother's side, he reached out trembling hands, and cupped his dearest brother's face in both claw and flesh.  He felt a new rising of anguish bubble up inside of him as he lifted the cold boy from the ground and held it close to himself.  Red-stained feathers lay scattered everywhere, stuck to the floor by dried blood.  One could see the bone and tendons in the stumps of Van's wings.  Folken's mind numbed, there was no way he could deny his beloved brother was dead.  He threw his head back and howled with the agony of his soul.  Tears ran in rivulets down his face, all of Folken trembled in shock and woe at this trauma before him.  He buried his face in the mane of matted hair upon his brother's head.  Sorrow was his name and misery his lot.  Folken rocked back and forth there for quite some time, Van in arms.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Miguel sauntered in to the Slayers eating area (it _was_ dinner time, after all).  The other boys shifted quickly out of his way when he sat down and he got nothing but silent stares his whole meal, the runny spots upon his armor were very suspisious.  Miguel didn't mind, he had gotten even, revenge was sweeter than he'd imagined.  Nothing else mattered now, it would only be Dilandau and him.  No one would ever dare interfere with them again!  He sipped some vino and fantasized blissfully.  

~I wonder when Folken will be done lecturing Dilandau on fornicating with prisoners of war.  He should be back very soon now, I think.~  Miguel looked at the mystery meat of the day. ~How the hell do they expect us to perform well in battle if all we get to eat is this crap? Ah well, food is food, even if it smells like its been rotting for a few days.~  He reluctantly shoveled a spoonful into his mouth and gagged, swallowed it anyway and kept eating.

Chesta walked in from the kitchens with a pallor to his face that made him look like he'd seen a ghost.

"Hey, Chesta, what's up?" Gatti probed carefully, Chesta looked almost ready to spill and cry a river.

"You want to follow me and see for yourselves.  It's got to do with Dilandau-sama,"  Chesta then briskly walked out the door.  All fifteen boys scrambled out of their seats and after him in a great stampede.  Dinner was quite forgotten.  

The boys bombarded Chesta with questions the whole way down, but he would only shake his head and try to blink back the tears threatening to come.  He had heard something devastating from one of the cooks bragging to a visitor of his.  The further towards the base of Vione they got, the worse the dread that clutched them.  All of them stared in shock as Chesta continued to lead them down a hall where they had never been, but knew all too well, that of the dungeon.  Gatti ran to the door and pushed it open in dread and anticipation.  His mind went numb at the sight he forced himself to drink in.  The other slayers filed in behind him, wanting a good look.  When they had it, they wished they'd never followed Chesta down.  There lay the body of their Captain, broken, torn and stretched into disturbing angles.  None of them had a stomach to move closer, yet they would not keep their eyes from it.  His hair was matted to his head and his body was still slick from the various bodily fluids covering him.  Yet his face looked like that of a child sleeping, peaceful, and content, almost as if he could wake at any moment.  

Miguel took a step backwards. ~No.~ This was not what he had intended!  Folken was just supposed to make Dilandau-koi leave the room!  This, this was all wrong!  He must be dreaming, asleep.  This was just another nightmare, that was it, a nightmare.  But nightmares didn't smell so real.  He bit his cheek so hard he could taste the metallic flavor of his own blood.  Nightmares were never this real for him . . . by now he should be awake in his bed!  He ran towards the body of his obsession and forced himself to touch it, see if it _was_ real.  Despite his thick armor he was shivering.  He pulled off a glove and ran his fingers across the corps' face, still warm, almost. Miguel pulled his hand away and the tears and blood blended together as he stared at it on his hands.  He took a few quakey steps away from the body and collapsed in upon himself.  ~It wasn't my fault, I didn't mean to, I mean I didn't do it.  It was Folken I  . . .I  . . .I. ~  He clutched his hands to his ears, quivering uncontrollably.   

"I swear this wasn't what I-I loved my you can't don't accuse me I'm innocent!" Miguel's voice echoed into the room, trying to drown out the accusers in his head.

The other slayers were confused.  Chesta began to try to explain that of course it wasn't his fault, Folken had a hand in this, but Guimel cut him off.  

"What happened, _Miguel_?" 

Miguel let his arms slowly crawl around his own shoulders.  His head was shaking very fast, back and forth.  "It was Folken, I didn't, I mean, I didn't know," Miguel shot his crazed gaze at Guimel, "This wasn't supposed to happen."

~So that's what he was doing.~ Guimel thought.  ~I should have know this rat was up to something, but out to kill our Captain?!~

"You are the reason our captain is _dead_ Miguel" Guimel stepped forward.

"No!"

"You killed him, Miguel."

"I would never!"

"You betrayed our Dilandau-sama to his doom!"

"I loved him!"

The Slayers had formed a tight ring around Miguel.  The yellow light shown down on his pleading figure, while it silhouetted all the angry faces above him.  As one entity they drew their swords and held them high.  The guilty one braced himself, convinced he was the victim still.  His life flew by him, there were no regrets, none but this one.  Fourteen blades punctured him through and through, they were quickly drawn out again and them slammed back into his body repeatedly.  Until all their fury had abated and turned their gentle attentions to the caring for their Patron's remains.  Folken watched dutifully from the doorway.  He had tracked the perpetrators footprints down back here, and he was able to watch as they dealt him a fitting justice.  He wiped his eyes and left from the awful scene.  He had a few things to get in order before the morning came.  

~I am a man who has given up country, family, everything, including my life.  I _swear_ I will _make thing_s better . . .~

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A few weeks later, the war still went on.  Zaibach was winning every battle, soon the fate of Gaea would be made perfect.  Hitomi had disappeared one day, she may have gone back to the Mystic Moon, or was eaten by dragons.  There was nothing left for Allen, his life had been all but taken by Zaibach.  Allan sat hunched over his desk in the palace of Astoria, as Zaibach had no need for the Knights of Astoria they were being disbanded today. He was reading a letter for the Madoushi.  As he read, Allen wept.

Dear Allen Schezar,

We are disheartened to inform you that your sister Celena Schezar has died of causes unknown.  Her body was found in the heart of the Zaibach Empire, and that she had been living a full life there.  Friends would be tending to her funeral.  Also, Van de Slanzar Fanel has passed away unexpectedly.  As the remaining heir of Fanelia is in league with Zaibach, we will be commanding custody of the territory of Fanelia.

Have a nice day,

Madoushi

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

~Owari~


	11. Epilogue

 This is just for Feye Morgan, Etowato and Angel of Re.  It may or may not make the fic complete, but it sounded like it might be fun to write, so I did.  I know I said last time that _that_ chapter was the last one, but due to popular demand, the fic demanded an epilogue.  This is that epilogue.  After this, the fic is really over, no more, zip, nada, nothing else. And you all can go read my other fic, 'Where is Limbo?' Be warned this is extremely short!  Enjoy!

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

            Folken tapped the stack of papers in his hands against the desk to align them into a perfect order.  He was pleased that he had been able to finish up his paperwork for the day, it had been piling up for a while.  Nothing seemed like it was worth doing any more.  The Strategos glided over to his newest experiment-in-a-bottle and dimmed the burner below it, it was the beginning of what he hoped would be a better crima claw.  His clothes found themselves on their hangers in the large wardrobe there.  Their conquest of Gaea was going ever so smoothly.  Most countries didn't even put up a fight fearing that they'd lose all their men in battle.  Folken climbed in-between his cool linen sheets and laid himself down softly upon his menagerie of pillows.  Normally, sleep never came easily to Folken, but tonight he slipped away on the gentle tide of the sandman's sails without a second glance back at shore.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A hallway of doors showed themselves, but none of them would open.  Some had no handles, others needed curious keys, occasionally a handle would be too far up on a door to reach.  Other doors were simply too thin or too small to pass through.  All of them were for another to pass through and the hallway kept going.  One red door quietly swayed open, begging him to look inside.  He could hear laughter that he was sure he recognized, but from where he knew not.  He stepped onto the grass and he never knew a door had existed to get there.  Old, ornate fountains and strange twisted statues hid among over grown foliage.  Many shrubs and trees grew here that Folken had never even heard of, he was quite intrigued.  A large, intricately patterned flight of butterflies fluttered overhead, Folken was fascinated.  He wanted to stay here and study all this new life.

A rustling of bushes behind Folken caused him twist around to see what new thing showed itself to him now.  Two joyous faces eyed him like mischievous nymphs.  They're limbs were all tangled in each other and they were threatening to topple over.  Ancient Atlantean robes graced their twin lithe figures.  It was their laughter that Folken had heard, but could not place, the sweet lilting laughter of Dilandau and Van.

"Folken-chan, we're ok now.  You wouldn't let us be together on Gaea, but it's better here, Shi looks after us," Van said, and then they really did fall down, cushioned by the lush grass.  They broke into a fit of never-ending giggles. 

"My koibito was telling the truth when he said we loved each-other.  I'm _so_ sorry you didn't see that.  It may have been hard for you to see, you're just so protective of your brother," Dilandau said, grinning up at his former commander.  Van stood up and faced his brother.  

"I had Shi bring you here so you could see that I'm happy.  I have exactly what I want, there's nothing more you can do for me," Van took Folken's hand in his. "I promise that you will be much better off if you stop living for me, I do forgive you.  Let the wind fill your wings and take you to a new future.  I will love you always, my brother."

Dilandau wrapped his arms around Van from behind and Van leaned into him, Folken could see now the love in Van's eyes, as well as Dilandau's.  They wound themselves into a quiet, passion infused kiss.  They seemed to forget Folken was there and went deeper into their foreplay.  Dilandau's hands wandered possessively over Van.  Van turned around in his arms and pulled him into another sweet meeting of sultry lips.  Folken came to realize how wrong he had been, but all was forgiven and it was time to move on. 

Folken found himself watching them from above, the wind called to take him.  He flew freer in that world then he ever had on Gaea.  He didn't want to go back, but he knew the dawn would eventually steal him away.  He would use now to enjoy himself, and the sky went on forever. 


End file.
